


Boys Like You (Are Destined for Ruin)

by Chipper_Daily



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Child Soldiers, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Forbidden Love, I mean... they ARE Irken, Irken Dib (Invader Zim), M/M, Mild Gore, Pining, Pre-Relationship, Promises, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24860122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chipper_Daily/pseuds/Chipper_Daily
Summary: “Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” His wavering voice was small and scared beneath a pain so bright it buzzed in his teeth as Dib was held closer and tighter than he’d ever been before. “I promise we’ll be alright.”
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 91





	Boys Like You (Are Destined for Ruin)

//UPLOAD COMPLETE.// The deep robotic voice boomed through the small dark download chamber as the tiny smeet jolted awake once more, large amber eyes blinking in disoriented bewilderment at the enormity of knowledge plopped into his memory banks. //You have been given a name. IDENTIFY YOURSELF.// 

“I-” The smeet faltered for a second before a sudden intense vigour had the tiny creature vaulting to its feet on the seat of the download chair with a clumsy salute. “Dib, reporting for duty!” He squeaked, his amber eyes wide with wonder as both his small hands curled into excited fists. “That was the entirety of Irken knowledge? That was incredible!” His volume dropped to a more conversational level as he thoughtfully rubbed his chin. “I do have a couple of follow-up questions, though.” 

// _Questions_.// The robotic voice lowered, and Dib was too young to realize that tone was NOT a good thing. 

“Yeah, it seemed like a couple of things were kinda glossed over, you know?” Dib planted his little fists on his hips. “You might want to look into that for the next download. Anyway, I wondered what-” A metallic tendril descended from the ceiling to bat the little smeet off the chair before he could finish, and another bright-eyed smeet plopped into the download chair before Dib could even get back up to his feet. “Hey! I wasn’t done!” 

And it was quite fortunate for young Dib that the note of his questioning and insubordinate nature was promptly lost when the shrill little smeet that followed him in the Download Chamber clogged the delivery chute, causing the Activation Chamber to malfunction, which inevitably lead to the five-year planet-wide blackout later referred to as ‘Horrible Painful Overload Day.’

\---

_“Don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay, I promise,” His wavering voice was small and scared beneath a pain so bright it buzzed in his teeth as Dib was held closer and tighter than he’d ever been before. “I promise, I_ **_promise,_ ** _we’ll be alright.”_

\---

“Identify yourself!” Dib jolted from his reverie to whirl on the source of the unexpected voice with wide amber eyes and an undignified squeak that he would deny making to his dying breath. His one good antenna pressed flat against his scalp, and he gritted his teeth in annoyance in the wake of the intruder’s obnoxious snickering. He narrowed his eyes and watched Zim’s narrow shoulders quiver with mirth beneath his bulky military research uniform. 

“Will you _shut up,_ Zim!” Dib hissed as he rolled onto his elbow to kick back at the smaller Irken, admittedly with a bit more force than necessary. “You’re going to get us both in trouble!” Not that Dib was spying on any sort of top-secret Vortian plans or anything (like he was encouraged to by his Irken superiors). He just wasn’t willing to get written up for bailing on his post- _again_ \- and risk the staff entrance leading to the narrow hidden platform that had become one of Dib’s favourite hiding spots winding up locked in the future.

Dib’s kick didn’t land, and Zim scampered onto the small maintenance platform undeterred. He nestled down onto his stomach at his smeethood friend’s side, completely unaware of how their shoulders brushed against each other or how Dib flinched away from the casual contact as though it burned him. 

“What am I looking at here, anyway?” Zim drawled with his chin propped up on one delicate fist as his large magenta eyes scanned the massive star map projected across the domed ceiling above and around them. For one flickering, precious moment, Zim held the entire universe in his eyes, countless stars reflected in magenta depths. Dib’s spooch flipped, and Dib gritted his teeth and nervously tore his eyes away. He settled on glaring down at his fists clenched tightly against the platform beneath him instead. Shame sparked in the flutter’s wake and unfurled into a burning weight, heavy in his chest as though it were trying to burn through his narrow ribs and the platform that suspended him to drop down, down, down, onto the group of Vortian scientists gathered far below. 

What they were looking at was a miserable fantasy, Dib’s way of poking at an open wound. 

A high definition image that had been taken by one of the Vortian’s Deep Field satellites showcasing a small sample of the uncharted wilds that lay beyond the boundaries of known space. A massive star map plotting galaxies never before seen by sentient life. Or, not by any _known_ sentient life, at least. The Vortian team far below the massive arching dome ceiling discussed which of these far-flung planets had the potential to support life. It was a silly fantasy and a waste of time, but Dib couldn’t deny the _yearning_ that stirred deep in his chest at the thought of blasting off somewhere far, far away. To explore worlds untouched by the cold influence of the Empire that shaped him. 

But Dib was a scientist and a soldier, and every cog had their place to keep the machine running smoothly. The Irken Empire had little interest in wasting resources on the uncertainties of unexplored space. Dib clenched his interlocking teeth, his innards a roiling mess of unease. He _should_ be satisfied, no, _happy_ to be able to aid the Irken Empire in the role he was designated most suited for by his betters. Every other Irken was. But, _but-_

_Dib was-_

His eyes narrowed as something sharp spiked beneath his ribs, and he instinctively flinched away from the thought, his gaze still locked on his fists, tightly clenched and utterly powerless beneath him.

“Don’t sit so close to me.” Dib grumbled petulantly. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” The smaller Irken’s antenna perked as his eyes flicked from the star map to shoot a haughty look at his friend. “Zim sits wherever Zim pleases.” Dib pinched his lips into a thin line before finally shooting a dark look at his smeethood companion.

“You didn’t get the notification then?” Dib shot for nonchalance and landed on a flat tone instead as he hesitantly met Zim’s bright magenta eyes. The shorter Irken’s brow furrowed like it always did when Zim was confused. The smaller scientist had been expressive to a fault since his hatching. His thin lips twitched down into a frown as another jolt jumped beneath Dib’s ribs, and he ripped his eyes away from Zim’s lips to gaze desperately up at the star map. What he wouldn’t give to be _anywhere_ but here. 

“The Control Brains sent out their recommendations for promotion earlier today.” 

“Did they?” Zim’s antennas perked forward with interest as he leaned further into Dib’s space. “Were we on it? What’s our rank now?” 

“ _My_ new rank is Team Lead.” Dib’s brow furrowed as he studiously didn’t meet Zim’s wide, magenta eyes. “You’re still just a research assistant.” 

“What?! That’s not FAIR, I’ve been here as long as YOU!” Zim bolted up with indignation as Dib whirled on the smaller Irken to frantically shoosh him before he got them both caught in a restricted area.

“And you’ve spent the whole time slacking off.” Dib hissed as he lowered his finger.

“Slacking off with _you,_ Dib-stink!” Zim bristled before turning away with a disgusted snort. “They just _handed_ you a stupid promotion because you got _taller._ ” He groused bitterly, and Dib felt his spooch knot with guilt even as offended anger bubbled beneath his ribs. 

“Yeah, and you _didn’t._ ” Dib sneered in return. He regretted the dig instantly as Zim whirled back on him with a look of tight-lipped _fury_ , his antenna bolted upright before pressing dangerously flat against his scalp, and his eyes burned with hot anger. His mouth popped open once, but no sound escaped before snapping shut again to bare his interlocking teeth as the smaller Irken bristled. 

“I hope you fall off this stupid platform and break your stupid face!” Zim finally spat, his face twisted as though the words themselves tasted bitter before he awkwardly shuffled back off the platform towards the dark doorway. 

It would be well within Dib’s rights as a team lead to ping a note of Zim’s insubordinate behaviour for later discipline, but he didn’t bother even responding. He didn’t watch the smaller Irken storm off, just glared down at his own stupid, powerless fists clenched uselessly in the darkness beneath him. Because it was true, Dib knew he hadn’t done anything to deserve a promotion. He was no more qualified for the role than Zim was (and, frankly, Zim _wasn’t_ ). It really was just because Dib had gotten taller, and Zim… hadn’t. 

_It was probably for the best to get away from the Smaller though. Zim was making him-_

Dib squeezed his eyes shut and dropped down to press his forehead against his clenched fists and gritted his teeth until his jaw ached.

_Zim made Dib... sick._

There was a long moment before Dib tilted his head back, wide amber eyes gazing pleadingly up at a fake sky and wished, wished, _wished_ he was somewhere, _anywhere,_ but here. 

“You’re ridiculous. You know that, right, stink-meat?” Dib startled at the same voice for the second time that day and whirled around to meet venomously narrowed magenta eyes hovering by the exit hatch. Zim’s frown only deepened as he continued. “What are you sulking about this time?” 

“I’m not _sulking._ ” Dib’s voice cracked as he scowled right back. Zim rolled his eyes with a peevish _tsk_ before stiffly bending down to gather up the hem of his bulky uniform and crawl back onto the low, narrow platform. 

“Yes, you _are._ ” Zim lunged to the side to roughly bump his shoulder into Dib’s and bared his teeth when Dib flinched away from the contact. The taller Irken bared his teeth right back even as he scooched away from his smeethood companion as much as the platform would allow. “You’re avoiding me too, you big-headed _wart._ ” Zim hissed as he leaned into what little space there was between them. 

“I’m not avoiding you either!” Dib bristled at the (correct) accusation, before hesitantly adding a weak. “.... any more.” 

Zim growled somewhere deep in his chest before lunging to pinch Dib’s closest bicep. _Hard._

“Augh! What was that for, you _jerk?_ ” 

“For being dumber than a drooling Slap-Bloxx, you snivelling stink-smeet!” 

“I’m not acting like a smeet!”

“Why don’t you cry about it a little more? That’ll convince me.” 

The two glowered at each other, both too bull-headed to back down before Dib finally tore his eyes away with a disgusted snort.

“I thought you were supposed to be storming off in a huff or whatever? Why don’t you go do that instead of bothering me for a change?” Dib grumbled mutinously before chancing a peevish glance back at his closest friend. Zim shuffled to splay his hands, his little claws digging into the platform, and furrowed his brow into an infuriatingly stubborn look that was all too painfully familiar to Dib. The taller Irken turned away with a long, put-upon sigh and pressed his forehead against his clenched fists again. 

The silence stretched between then until Dib softly murmured into the floor.

“I can’t take you with me.” 

“Ehn?” 

Dib threw his head back with an exasperated groan in response to Zim’s baffled grunt and fixed the smaller Irken with a piercing glare. 

Dib still remembered all the times he'd earned himself yet another sharp cuff upside the back of the head from his commanding officer for questioning orders, and Dib would run off and hide in the rafters of one of the ammunition storage sheds to seeth. It never took long for Zim, who was no stranger to the sting of harsh discipline either, to find him and wedge his boney little butt into the already cramped space, squishing Dib up against a dusty steel beam, fish a half-finished packet of fun-dip out of his PAK and refuse to share it. Back when they were the same size and sharing a fun-dip stick hadn’t seemed as unbelievably gross as it was. Dib wouldn’t have had time for so much as a taste anyway, even if Zim had agreed to share, not around his impassioned ranting. His small hands gestured pointedly into the air as he spilled his _many_ grievances, about their commanding officer, about their training, about their pointless drills, and anything else his curious mind could find fault with while Zim nodded along in the darkness. Finally, Dib would lose steam and peter off, and Zim would crumple his fun-dip wrapper in his delicate little hands and carelessly toss it down among the stacked crates of live ammunition below them. Then he’d turn to Dib with a smug look, eyes glowing faintly in the darkness as his mouth pulled back into a wicked grin, and he would roughly entwine his small fingers with Dib’s and squeeze his hand just a fraction too tight and promise Dib that things would be different as soon as Zim became Tallest. 

And Dib, despite how clever he was, despite the astronomical odds, and borderline treasonous tone, believed him.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Neither of them ever brought it up, but Zim hadn’t grown at _all_ in a worryingly long time. Honestly, if it weren’t for Zim’s penchant for mayhem and destruction during their basic training, his size should have sorted him into the rank of a service drone. And it was stupid, it was so _stupid_ , but Dib was… scared. He was scared that after spending a lifetime separated by only 2 minutes, of being inseparable through the Education Plug, their cadet training, and the long years in the same department as military researchers, that they would be pushed apart by the rigid rules of their society. That after everything they’d been through together, the defied orders and the secretly entwined hands, the in-jokes and sombre promises, the hushed whispers and the bloodstains, they’d be torn apart by something neither of them could help; Their biology. 

_-but it was for the best because Zim made Dib-_

“Zim, you _moron!_ ” Dib snapped, angrier with the persistent thought he struggled to keep pushing away, yet still crept insidiously back again and again and again, than with the smaller Irken. 

“HOW is Zim a moron when the Dib is the one making _no sense!_ ” Zim bristled again with a growl. Dib squeezed his eyes shut and tightly gripped the sides of his head, claw tips digging threateningly into the sensitive skin at the base of his antenna.

“I _can’t-_ I can’t _do_ this. I can’t take you with me.” His lips pulled back to bare his teeth. “Don’t you _get_ it? We’re just going to keep getting sorted further and further away from each other. One of these days is going to be the last time I ever see you, and we won’t even know it until it’s already _gone._ ” Dib’s voice lowered miserably as something sharp twisted in his guts. “And I _can’t_ -” He abruptly cut himself off, thickly swallowing the aborted thought back down to burn beneath his ribs as it had since the first time he’d been struck speechless by the soft curve of Zim’s awful little mouth. 

Because Dib was sick, because Zim was _making_ Dib sick, and Dib _knew_ he needed to get away from the Smaller, with his pretty eyes and casual touches and that terrible grin he saved just for Dib. 

But the thought of losing him _gutted_ Dib, left a jagged wound that ached and ached, but never bled, so his PAK couldn’t fix it. 

Because Zim was the only one who’d ever really _understood_ Dib, frankly, he was the only one who’d ever seemed to care enough to _try._ He’d been the only one to reach out in the darkness of the Education plug, the only other in their cadet grouping besides Dib to openly question orders, the only one to defy those orders and stay behind when things went sideways-

\---

_“Oh no-” Zim’s voice was so small, so far away, and Dib threw up again. He couldn’t walk, the world around him lurching and spinning and searing white through a veil of bright, crackling pain. His PAK was pinging, but he was too disoriented to understand what it was trying to tell him. “Oh no, oh no, oh no-” Small, desperate hands still gripped him, tiny claws digging into his flesh, too concerned with time to fret about care, and dragged him when his little legs couldn’t coordinate themselves beneath him. Everything seemed so far away, the entire left side of his face was soaking wet, and from what he could see with the eye he had left, so was the front of his cadet uniform. Commander Poki’s voice barked through their coms, harsh as always and crackling with static at the edges, a direct order to fall back. Except Dib couldn’t, and Zim could, but wouldn’t. “It’s gonna be okay-” Zim’s tiny voice was high and frightened beneath the sharp ringing in Dib’s skull. “It looks bad, but it’s- it’ll heal. It’ll all grow back, it’s okay, it’s okay-” and Dib didn’t know if it felt like the ground was shuddering beneath them from the vertigo of losing his antenna, or if another brilliant explosion had detonated nearby._

\---

Zim had promised him they’d be alright. Promised him that things would be different, _better,_ as soon as Zim became Tallest. Zim had promised Dib many things many times. But Zim was a liar, and Dib had always known it, yet here he was, still somehow surprised and upset, and Dib should have known better. 

But Zim made Dib ~~Defective~~ sick, and soft, and foolish, so Dib was powerless to do anything _but_ slip under the smaller Irken’s strange spell.

It had taken him a long time to realize what was happening- too long and too late. But it had always seemed so innocent. It was so easy, entwining his little fingers with Zims, laughing together at the rest of the absurd world neither of them fit quite right into, bumping shoulders and sharing knowing looks. The whole treacherous, slippery slope had felt as natural as breathing. He couldn’t even pinpoint the exact moment when Zim started to look… different. The same, but _different,_ like something that Dib _wanted_ to look at. When Dib noticed how appealingly sweet Zim smelled, and he would catch himself sneaking whiffs of his smeethood friend whenever he could get away with it. Or when holding hands left Dib feeling like he had to hold his breath too, the small contact leaving his skin feeling a size too small and like his insides were made of something unutterably fragile.

_Breeding behaviour._ According to the Irken database, at least. 

Dib could _feel_ the disgusted sneer curdle beneath his skin with a spike of hot shame. One of the many basic _animal_ instincts purged from Irken’s superior biology that uplifted them from other primitive and repugnant species. He’d only caught on to the true insidious nature of the disease gnawing away beneath his ribs during their prolonged stay on Vort, and being in close contact with one of those inferior species- the Vortians themselves. The first time he’d caught two of the otherwise respectable goat-like scientists pressing their nasty, germ-riddled mouths together, he’d been utterly repulsed by the vulgar display, like any other Irken would, and _should_ be. 

It hadn’t crossed his mind again until much, much later, when he and Zim had ditched their posts (again) to sneak off to the space station’s observation bay suspended high above the swirling purple clouds that obscured Vort’s surface. The constellations were vastly different from the ones that twinkled above Irk, and though Dib would always loudly proclaim to the contrary, secretly, he thought they were prettier here. They seemed especially beautiful that night, with just the two of them beneath the massive window. Zim pressed his hands against the glass while his faint reflection, interwoven with starlight, mirrored the small gesture. Despite the heavens unfolding for eternity on all sides around them, all Dib wanted to look at was Zim. He’d said something petty and cruel about their team lead, a spastic young Vortain fresh from the academy with something to prove named Lard Nar, and Zim had thrown his head back to cackle. And in one split-second, when Zim tilted his head up at his smeethood friend, his magenta eyes cracking open to hold the stars and his lips twisting up into a mean grin, Dib’s world fell apart. 

In that one fragile moment, Zim took Dib’s breath away, and Dib realized he wanted to kiss him. 

The next day Dib quietly requested to return to the planet’s surface, without Zim, and had been doing his level best to avoid the smaller Irken since then. Because Dib was Defective, and no one could ever, ever, _ever_ know. 

_Because Dib was sick for Zim, but Zim wasn’t sick for Dib, and it was a blessing that tore him apart._

“No.” Dib’s eyes popped open, and all other thoughts were wiped from his mind as he turned to fix Zim with a bewildered look in the wake of the smaller Irken’s straightforward response. He waited for a beat for Zim to continue before he bolted upright on his elbows to fix him with a baffled look.

“What do you mean _‘no’?_ ” 

“I mean, that’s not going to happen. I won’t _let_ it-”

“You can’t _stop_ it, Zim.” Dib interrupted with a sneer, and Zim pinched his lips together in stewing frustration and pressed his antennas dangerously flat against his scalp as he studied Dib’s face with shrewd magenta eyes. 

“Fine,” He finally hissed, eyes still narrowed and shoulders tense. He leaned forward into Dib’s space as something desperate trickled into his tone. “But you’d better not stop, then, understood? Not until _you’re_ the Tallest. Then no one can tell us what to do.” 

And Dib _knew_ this was dangerous, lying side by side in secrecy and solitude, surrounded by a sea of unfathomably distant stars- a silent promise of a kind of freedom neither of them had ever dared to consider before. But he was entangled in the most bittersweet of traps, and all he could do was meet Zim’s determined gaze and hold his breath as Zim leaned agonizingly closer. His magenta eyes narrowed to half-lidded slits as his voice dropped to a whisper. “ _Promise me._ ” 

Zim had promised Dib many things, many times, but Zim was a liar, and those promises had very often fallen through. While they were able to replace Dib’s ocular implant, his antenna had never grown back; to this day, it remained a shrivelled, ugly, stump. But Dib was nothing if not adaptable, and he’d grown to make do with one, and if not for Zim, it was unlikely Dib would have survived that training mishap at _all._ Dib should know better, but Zim was the only one who’d ever really _understood._ Was the only one that ever made Dib feel- he made Dib _feel._ And he could only shut his own eyes and go completely still as Zim leaned closer.

“I promise,” Dib breathed. His fists clenched so tightly he could feel his claws digging into his palms as his insides shattered into a shower of delicate, glowing stars, burning unbearably bright as they drained between his ribs to rain down onto the scientists far, far below. " _I_ _promise,_ ” he murmured again softly against Zim’s lips as they pressed, as light as the caress of a feather, against the corner of his mouth, and Dib felt like he was simultaneously soaring and being crushed. 

“Don’t cry,” Zim’s voice was small and scared as his lips ghosted against the edge of Dib’s mouth, and it was only then that Dib realized he was, that the soft, mournful clicking was coming from his own chest. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” Zim went quiet to press another fleeting, nervous peck against the corner of his mouth before Dib tilted his head to meet the smaller Irken fully. “ _We’ll be alright,_ ” Zim broke away with a whisper, yet still, Dib couldn’t stop the sorrowful clicking vibrating beneath his ribs as he leaned into those sinfully soft lips again. “ _I promise,_ ” Dib felt more than heard, Zim’s lips shaping the words against his, close enough to breathe each other’s air, before melting together again. “ _I promise,_ ” the softest mantra, over and over, until neither knew which of them was uttering the words anymore.

\---

_Dib lost consciousness at some point, so it took him a disoriented moment to put together the pieces of what happened once he finally blinked his way back into awareness to discover darkness, silence, and dull pain. The first thing his gaze landed on was Zim’s pale, drawn face, haloed by the distant stars, faint in the waning light of either early dawn or late evening that filtered into the shallow dugout Zim had managed to carry/drag Dib into for shelter. And even though they would both be severely punished for Dib’s carelessness and Zim’s purposeful defiance of orders, Dib knew, even then, that this would be a memory he would always, always, always hold close. Of when Zim came back for him and curled tightly around him like the tiny Irken could protect them both from harm. Like Zim could shield them both from a cruel world that refused to accept or understand either of them. That all they had was each other, and perhaps, in the end, that’s all they needed._

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Stargazing prompt on the best zadr discord out there- love you nerds ♥ 
> 
> This is actually a continuation (err, prequel?) of the same Irken Dib au I wrote a scene for last year (for another zadr week prompt). It's not mandatory reading, and it's more sexually explicit than this one so no kids allowed please, but if you're interested you can check it out right [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19147066/chapters/45681325#workskin). And yeh, I know we finally got a canon version of what Irken Dib would look like in EtF, but I put out this first one shot before it was released & I'm sticking with this Irken Dib description for consistency's sake ^^;;
> 
> And, as always, thank you so much for reading & I hope you have a lovely day (~˘▾˘)~


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